E350's Oneshot Theatre
by E350
Summary: Come one, come all, to a theatre of oneshots, craziness and other random acts from the mind of an obsessive fan. Works will be rated anywhere from K to T - read with discrection. NOW SHOWING: What if Nicktoons ruled the world?  Rated K
1. The Walrus

Ladies, gentlemen, Konigstigers, lend me your ears!

In order to promote diversity in this section, I have decided to create a oneshot theatre to house my drabbles, plot bunnies and other such rubbish. I hope you enjoy them as much as I do writing them. Be advised, any of my plot bunnies are open to adoption, should anybody want to pick them up.

This one was written a few weeks ago in a half-hour writing binge. It's my experiment in sci-fi. Enjoy!  
**

* * *

The **_**Walrus**_

The damage to the _Walrus_ was extensive. A giant rip had opened from the starboard bow to roughly halfway towards the keel, and it was clear the research ship was coming apart. Supplies were sucked from the ship into the vacuum of space, and a general evacuation order had been given.

The _Walrus_ was simply a ship that had been in the wrong place at the wrong time. It had made a 'jump' from a refuelling space-station to an unexplored star, and had immediately come under fire from an Irken battleship.

The unarmed vessel had now lost the attentions of the Irkens, who were now sailing away with the intention of finding another unescorted ship to raid for the fun of it. Of this, Captain Danny Fenton was glad of.

"This is Captain Fenton calling any USN vessels in range," he called from his CP on the bridge, "We are coming apart! We need another ship to pick up the survivors, out!"

The ship moaned, menacingly. Danny chose now to hope that all was well and run for the evac pods.

The _Walrus_ had a crew of thirty-seven. Of these, only four had perished – the three men unlucky enough to be in the supply hold when it burst open, and the Ship's Lieutenant, who had been killed by an exploding computer.

* * *

Down in the Engine Room, the crew still manning the equipment were preparing to leave.

Under the command of Chief Engineer Sandy Cheeks, the team had now been reduced to four people – her, Spongebob Squarepants, Carl Wheezer and Chester McBadbat. All others had left for the pods.

"Status report!" ordered Sandy.

Chester looked up from a monitor he had been watching.

"We've lost two…"

There was a crash.

"Three thrusters! I'm not a computer genius, but that might just be an excuse to _run before the engine blows up!"_

"Deactivate the fourth thrusters," nodded Sandy, "Then we're getting the heck outta dodge."

"Eh?" asked Carl, confused.

"She means we're getting out of here," sighed Chester, "Just turn off the thrusters!"

"Oh…OK!" nodded Carl, "What was the code again?"

In a typically friendly, calm tone (that incidentally made everyone want to beat up the nearest AI programmer), a computerized voice echoed from the PA systems.

"_Fifty seconds to critical engine failure."_

"Does anyone remember the code?" asked Carl, sweating.

"I do!" replied Spongebob, brightly, "It's 2-5-6-1!"

"No it isn't!" shot Chester, "It's 2-5-_7-_1!"

"It's 2-5-8-1, now punch it in!" yelled Sandy.

Carl typed in the code, and was presented with another screen.

"Disconnect cores to Fusion Reactor System," he read out loud, "Y/N?"

"_Thirty seconds to critical engine failure."_

"Dag nabbit!" cursed Sandy, "Alright, you guys get out of here; I'll finish this and meet you at the pods!"

"We can help!" protested Spongebob.

"No we can't," sighed Chester, grabbing his arm and beginning to drag him out the door.

"But what if you need a second person?" demanded Spongebob.

"I'll be fine, Spongebob!" reassured Sandy.

Carl and Chester continued to drag him down the corridor towards the escape pods.

* * *

"_Fifteen seconds to critical engine failure."_

Sandy was still going through the thrusters deactivation procedure. If she failed, the engine would explode, and...the words 'terrible way to die' came to mind.

"Do I want to recalibrate the…darn it, who designed this system?" demanded Sandy, going through all questions as quickly as possible.

There was a sudden beep, the screen turned red, and three very, very bad words appeared on screen.

_System Failure. Reboot?_

"_Five seconds to critical engine failure."_

Sandy had just enough time to slump on the floor, place her head in her hands, and mentally curse absolutely everyone involved in this ship's construction.

Then there was an almighty bang.

* * *

Spongebob had run back and was nearing the engine room when it exploded spectacularly.

Captain Fenton wrote in his log that he had gone into the flaming room, grabbed Sandy's unconscious form, run back up to the pods and then attempted an unauthorised use of the electric shock things (what were those things called, anyway? Danny did not know.)

Shortly after, to everyone's delight, a rescue ship, the USS _Eldridge_, arrived to bring the pods aboard, and allow access to their medical bay.

It was there that Spongebob checked his CO and friend into medical care, and was given an offer by Doctor AJ Ibrehim.

"You're lucky we arrived when we did – she was slipping away when we arrived," he explained.

"Can you fix her?" asked Spongebob.

"Well…we can rebuild her. We have the technology…"


	2. Not As It Seems

I tried to envoke an Assassin's Creed like atmosphere, I _really_ did, but I failed.

NOTE: This doesn't take place in the Assassin's Creed Universe.  
**

* * *

Not As It Seems**

Tucker Foley was up late – again.

His life had gone uphill in the past ten years, all-in-all. A well-paying job for the CIA as a computer technician (a fancy way of saying hacker), a girlfriend and a (government-supplied) penthouse – what more could you want?

To that, the reply would be less work.

The CIA had been abuzz lately – a particular country seemed to be massing its forces on the Korean Demilitarized Zone – and as much intel on enemy plans had to be uncovered as possible.

Suppressing a yawn, Tucker gave a silent cheer as he finally managed to hack into the enemy computers – they were better then he'd thought. All their plans were before him; troop movements, domestic policies, even the dictator's daily timetable.

Reading into everything, Tucker's annoyance was raised. Apparently, they weren't planning an invasion – far from it, this was a training exercise. Typical military intelligence, thinking it was an invasion.

Exasperated, he emailed his report to his boss and prepared to shut down his computer when something caught his eye.

It was a small code on the Korean page – YTEICOSNAINNATIRB.

Dismissing it (he'd think about it tomorrow), Tucker closed the page and went for a well deserved rest.

* * *

Next morning, Tucker entered a small electronics shop on the high street – Cartwright Internet Applications – and walked beyond a door proclaiming 'Staff Only.'

This was the entrance to the secret lift, which took him to the CIA's Animatia headquarters. It wasn't much, really – just a small amount of underground offices where everyone knew each other, with a larger office/suite where the boss both lived and worked. Hardly anyone entered more then once a week.

Animatia was a larger city then Amity Park – nearly 3,000,000 lived here to Amity Park's million – and Tucker found it refreshing to work in such a small workplace. As he walked to his office, he ran into Gerald Johansson.

Gerald occupied the office across from Tucker's, and had become quite a good friend of his. Gerald was a field agent – that meant that he often got called away on assignments abroad. He had been gone for some time, so Tucker decided to catch up.

"So how was Moscow?" he asked.

"Classified," shrugged Gerald, "Apart from that, though, it was pretty good. Anyway, I just got out with the Boss – he wants to see you."

"Aw man, do I have to," sighed Tucker.

Gerald put his hand on his shoulder.

"I feel for you man," he said in a sympathetic tone.

Tucker had little time to drop his stuff before he had to be before his boss, so he dumped it all on his desk without bothering to arrange it.

Carefully, he opened the door to his boss' office. The man himself was sitting calmly at his desk, typing on his computer.

"Sit down, Mr. Foley," he said, waving his hand.

Tucker sat down, not quite sure what was going to happen.

"First of all, I'd like to thank you for your work last night," complimented the boss (Tucker could not see his face past the laptop), "You stop us from going guns blazing to Seoul, which I'm pretty sure would've been a bad thing."

"Thanks, sir," nodded Tucker.

"I'm here to talk to you about Danny Phantom."

Tucker froze.

"What did you say sir?"

"I said I'm here to talk to you about Danny Phantom," replied the boss in a hard tone, "Have you been in contact with him lately?"

"Err…a little," replied Tucker, nervously, "Why?"

The boss turned his monitor around.

A photo was displayed on screen. It pictured Danny, caught in a spotlight, with a code scrawled on a brick wall behind him.

I N E E  
G S N H  
H I D T

"What the heck?" Tucker breathed.

"We were hoping you'd know," replied the boss, "Phantom's been drawing these across Amity Park lately, and we've got him on watch. We believe that he could have been employed or forced to work for…"

Tucker glanced at the boss' suit, spying small writing sown on the pocket.

YTEICOSNAINNATIRB. The same code from the enemy network.

"Is there a problem, Mister Foley?" asked the boss.

"Err…nah, I'm mind, Mr…I forget again…" began Tucker.

"Tamworth, son – Sating Tansbury," replied Mr. Tansbury, "Is there a problem?"

SAting TANsbury.

"Err…may I be excused, sir, I'm pretty exhausted from last night," stammered Tucker.

"Sure, you can have the morning off," shrugged Mr. Tansbury, "But when you get back, I want you to work on Project Lucifer."

LUCIFER – SATAN.

"Y-yes sir," nodded Tucker, practically throwing himself from the room.

Tucker entered the lift, thinking it over. Why did his boss have such a…biblical name? What was with the codes? What was with…anything?"

He began to think.

He'd been taught about codes when he joined the CIA. One tactic was to read things backwards.

YTEICOSNAINNATIRB. BRITANNIANSOCIETY. BRITANNIAN SOCIETY.

One down – maybe. But what was the Britannian Society, and why would it concern Korea and America?

Leaving the building and stepping onto the street, Tucker continued to rack his brain.

He'd played a lot of video games in his time. He'd seen a code similar to Danny's in one of them. Go from the bottom right-hand corner, and read up and down.

THE END IS NIGH.

Now he was running, back to his apartment (while mentally thanking himself for having a good memory). What was this about the end?

He continued to think, and things suddenly seemed significant. His apartment building was number four on his street – four horses of the apocalypse. His area code was 666. And – no, he was getting paranoid now.

Entering the foyer of his apartment, he entered the lift. Closing the door, he looked in the mirror and tried to tell himself to relax, that it was all just a weird twist of fate.

His reflection grinned at him. Tucker was pretty sure he wasn't grinning.

"I suppose you think this is End Times," growled his reflection, "Repent you sins, all that rubbish, right?"

He laughed a harrowing, hollow laugh.

"Religion is a ruse," he snarled, "A codebook for the real history of mankind – and I will tell you that you won't expect it."

Reflection Tucker smiled, and Tucker screamed as his flesh rotted away, leaving a skeleton and a final, raspy statement.

"Run, Tucker Foley."

The door opened, and Tucker bolted for his apartment. Grabbing the phone, he dialled his girlfriend.

"Star…i-it's Tucker – look, meet me in the foyer, we have to get out of here, something is seriously wrong…"


	3. Maps

**Ye Gads! **I wrote something I can show small children! It's the end of the world!

Just a little lighthearted doohickey I wrote today. Hope you enjoy!

**

* * *

Maps**

"What're you doing?" asked Timmy, looking at the VOX screen with a slight frown on his face.

"I'm redrawing the world map," replied Jimmy, nonchalantly.

"Why?"

"Well, I just finished this game of [INSERT STRATEGY GAME HERE]," shrugged Jimmy, "I managed to conquer the world, so I thought I should divide it up again."

"…aren't we supposed to be the guys who _stop_ people from conquering the world?" demanded Timmy, brow raised.

"Meh, it's a way to let off steam," admitted Jimmy.

Timmy nodded, and looked at the map. It was covered in a pink colour – evidently, pink was the colour of the country Jimmy had been playing as.

"So, who'd you play as?" he asked.

"The British," replied Jimmy, "It was pretty random."

He opened up a tab labelled 'liberate nations', and clicked on 'Portugal'. A small green nation appeared in south-western Europe.

"How long is this going to take?" asked Timmy.

"I'd say about an hour," shrugged Jimmy.

"_Riight_, I'll be over there, then," nodded Timmy.

He sat at a small table in the corner of the lab. Bored, he grabbed a piece of A4 paper and started scribbling on it. Once he had developed a rather messy squiggle, he threw it to the side and grabbed another piece of paper.

This was a page from his geography homework. It was a printed map of the world, with instructions to draw the geographical features of the world on it.

Inattentively, Timmy found Dimmsdale on the map, and began to draw a little circle around it. He labelled the little circle as 'Timmy Land'.

He decided that that was a bit small, and rubbed out the circle. He drew a bigger line from the pointy bit where the US meets Mexico to the north coast of Canada. He coloured it pink and labelled it 'Timmy Land' again.

His eyes turned to Asia now, notably to Japan and China. He remembered that, long ago, the first ever Crash Nebula series had been made in Japan, before it had been bought by an American company. Nodding, he drew a line from the place where China, Korea and Russia met down to roughly Hong Kong. He left this area, Japan and Taiwan uncoloured, and labelled it 'NebuLand.'

He moved his pencil over Europe now, and coloured France, Germany, Italy, Spain, Portugal and Switzerland red, labelling this 'Jimmy Land.' He then decided that he couldn't call everything 'Land', and changed the name to 'JimmyUgal.' Randomly, he crossed out the city of 'Monaco' and replaced it with 'Retroville'.

His attention returned to America, as he drew a line from the Great Lakes to Florida, and another from the lakes to the Canadian coast. He coloured this green and called it the 'Danny's Ghost Zone'.

Glancing at the Pacific, he coloured Australia and all of the islands in the Pacific yellow, and named this the 'Spongebob Empire'.

The next place he turned his attention to was Africa, where he drew a very long line separating the East and the West. He coloured the Eastern part in orange, and called it 'Tak's Tribe-y People.'

Thinking a little, he decided to give Cosmo and Wanda a little bit, colouring in Argentina, Chile and the Falklands. The new blue blob was called 'My Fairies Place.'

Considering for a moment, Timmy decided to give his own country a little more land. More to the point, he decided to take over the place Remy and Anti-Cosmo came from. He gave a little chuckle as he coloured Britain and Ireland pink.

Thinking again, he coloured the rest of Canada in a lighter blue and called it 'Anti-Genie Land'.

He then coloured the North of the USA purple, drawing a line in the middle. He called it 'My Dad's Country,' and gave a chuckle. He coloured the rest of the USA in yellow, adding it to the Spongebob Empire.

He thought about that last one for a moment, wondering if he should give it to someone else, Sandy for example. Then he considered who Spongebob's Queen or Empress would probably be, and chuckled.

Jimmy glanced at him.

"Is there something funny about Bulgaria?" he asked, pointing irritably at his screen.

"No," replied Timmy, shaking his head.

Jimmy gave a curt nod, and went back to his business.

Timmy fiddled with his map for another half hour, randomly adding parts of the world to his different countries until it was all coloured. He finished by shading Antarctica black and labelling it 'Everyone I Don't Like.'

He finished off by writing a title for his map – 'The World According to Timmy Turner.' He rewrote according several times, until he believed he had the spelling right.

"Right, I'm done," grinned Jimmy, getting up from his chair. Timmy jumped, and hid the map he had drawn in his bag.

"Yeah, sorry about that," continued Jimmy, "I was having trouble working out Africa. So, what did you come here for?"

"Just wanted to see how you were doing, I guess," shrugged Timmy, "It's been a while since we last saw each other."

"Yeah, you weren't there at the whole 'globs of doom' thing, were you," nodded Jimmy, "You didn't miss much."

"I know," Timmy replied, "I was just a bit worried that…you might have replaced me."

Jimmy gave a chortle, and shook his head.

"Timmy, I'd never replace you," he grinned, placing his hand on Timmy's shoulder, "Especially not with Zim of all people."

"Thanks," thanked Timmy.

He paused for a few seconds.

"So," he mused at last, "You ever wonder what it would be like if we ruled the world?"

"Sometimes," shrugged Jimmy, walking towards the elevator, "Doesn't everyone?"

"I guess so," nodded Timmy.

As soon as Jimmy was gone, Timmy pulled his map out again. Glancing to make sure no-one could see him, he snuck over to a small VR machine in the corner. Jimmy had invented this as a way to bring the worlds of drawings to life for his art project, and had left it to gather dust after Sheen's doodles had nearly destroyed Retroville.

Setting it to 'view only' and slipping his map under the scanner, Timmy put the helmet on, and turned on the machine.

After all, you're not the third wheel in your own little world, are you?

* * *

The World According to Timmy Turner: http : / / img801 . imageshack . us / img801 / 3913 / timmysworld . png


End file.
